At Weeks End
Even though it was cloudy and a bit chilly Thursday, from my perspective it was one of the best days of the year. The major league baseball season began, with the Royals at home against the White Sox.
As long as I can remember, baseball has been my favorite pro sport. Im far from a rip-snorting fan of the NFL and I dont think Ive watched an NBA game since Jordan hung up his sneakers.
I tuned up for the Royals opener Thursday by watching a couple of replays of games from a year ago, and followed up with The Babe Ruth Story, the good one starring William Bendix. Then I settled in for the Royals and White Sox. (Drats! They lost big time.)
My interest in baseball goes back to the early 1950s and the Mutual Network game of the day, which featured teams I knew about from newspaper articles and an occasional baseball magazine. The only team remotely close was the Cardinals in St. Louis, after the Browns became the Baltimore Orioles in 1954, and that was too far to coax Dad into a trip.
Then, in 1955 the As moved from Philadelphia to Kansas City. I was hooked.
That year I saw my first game in person, by way of a bus trip organized by my church. When I walked along Brooklyn Avenue and looked at Municipal Stadium, it was difficult for me to believe there was anything man-made so large. Inside, I was mesmerized by the beauty of the infield grass, the snow-white base lines and the immense thrill of seeing a real major league game.
That most KC players were journeymen or in the twilights of their careers didnt matter. I had fallen in love with baseball at the highest level.
I worked a couple of weeks one summer at a lumber yard and used part of what I earned to buy a transistor radio, new to the market. I carried it with me everywhere when the As were playing. One season, I think it was 1958, I listened to all 154 games.
Later, wife Beverly and I made many trips to KC to watch the As; starting in 1969 the Royals, after Charlie Finley broke many a young heart by moving the As to Oakland in 1968, just when they were getting good.
In those early years players seldom moved from one team to another and I could recite position-by-position players on each American League team. That would be difficult today, with free agency and a greater number of trades shifting players among franchises.
Ive adjusted to the changes, although my fondest memories are of the 1950s, when Id lay out a diagram of the field where the As would be playing, pencil in the names of the players, flip on the transistor and let my minds eye take me to New York, Boston, Chicago or wherever.
Now I watch games on TV, but its just not the same.
